A Moment in the Sun
by ScopesMonkey
Summary: After the crew of the Defiant rescues a derelict Starfleet vessel, Ezri Dax's life begins to unravel around her.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note_: This story involves a few original characters, so if you're dead set against OC's, you might want to stop here. The only way I could get this story to work the way I wanted it to was to include my own creations. It might help to read _A Dagger I See Before Me_ first, as one of my characters from that story is also in this story. The story is set early in the 7th season.

I normally don't post stories unless they're finished, but I'm hoping this will kick my butt into finishing this one, as it's been going slowly.

_Disclaimer_: I don't own Star Trek or any of the characters or places in the series, novels, movies, etc. I do own the original characters. I am making no money from this.

1

"Captain's log, stardate five-two-three-three-three-point-zero. We are currently on a convoy mission with the _Blessing Way_, escorting supply ships to Bajor We're still about four days out from Bajoran space, and I've kept us on yellow alert. So far, we haven't seen a hint of any Dominion ships, and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't relish convoy duty; personal experience has taught me how risky it is. I know Starfleet can't spare the resources, but I'd have felt better if at least one more ship had been assigned to us. As it is, it's just us and the _Blessing Way_ to escort five supply ships. I suppose we'll just have to do the best we can.

"So far, it's been a fairly routine run, although I mention that with some trepedation. I have no desire to tempt fate. My chief medical officer, of course, is happy to be here, since he has friends on the _Blessing Way_ he hasn't seen much during the war. Now that's a familiar story. Despite the fact that I'd rather be back on my station, it is nice to see at least one of my officers actually enjoying some personal time."

"Worf to Sisko."

Sisko paused as the call came over the com system.

"Computer, end log recording," he said, then tapped his badge. "Sisko here. Go ahead, Commander."

"Sir, we are picking up a ship on long range sensors."

A familiar tension settled into the back of Sisko's neck and shoulders.

"What kind of ship?", he asked, deliberately keeping his voice even, not be traying his dismay.

"I am not certain," the Klingon's deep voice rumbled over the comline.

"I'm on my way," Sisko said and pushed himself to his feet. He left his tiny ready room and emerged onto the busy bridge. "Report."

"It appears to be adrift, sir," Worf said. O'Brien glanced over his shoulder at the captain.

"It's definitely a Federation signature, sir," he said.

"On screen," Sisko ordered.

"It's still outside of visual range," Kira replied from her station. "We should be able to pick it up within the next two minutes. Wait, the _Blessing Way _is hailing us."

"Put them through," Sisko said.

The screen jumped and Captain Atri Yusumi's face appeared in the place of the distant stars and one of the convoy ships. She was a short woman of Asian decent, with short dark hair to match her height. Her jaw was set and she looked displeased, although Sisko guessed the displeasure was not aimed at him.

"Captain Sisko, have you picked upthe Federation ship on long range sensors?"

"Just a minute ago," Sisko replied. "We haven't been able to identify it."

"We have," Yusumi said. "It's the _Kejada_. She's another stellar class vessel, like this one. She was launched six weeks before we were."

Sisko nodded slowly.

"They must have been on their way back from deep space," he said. Yusumi nodded. It had not been long since the _Blessing Way_ had returned to the Federation core; they had set out on a deep space mission just over three years ago and the Federation recall command had taken some time to reach them, and then it had taken the _Blessing Way_ several months at high warp to return home. If the _Kejada_ had left earlier, she would have been farther away when she received her orders to return.

"I've confirmed that the ship is just drifting, sir," O'Brien said. "It appears that their warp core was badly damaged and is off line. And it doesn't look like they have any impulse engines to speak of anymore, either."

"Captain,", Sisko said, turning back to Yusumi after acknowledging O'Brien's input, "I think we need to get that ship."

"Agreed," Yusumi said, her lips pursed unhappily. "I'll signal the convoy that we're about to change course. I know my ship's class, Captain, and it will take both of us to haul her back to Bajor."

"Agreed," Sisko said. "Major, how long before we can reach the _Kejada_ at our current speed?"

"Forty minutes," Kira replied.

"Alert us when you've got the convoy on course," Sisko said to the other captain.

"I will," Yusumi replied and ended the communication.

"Ensign," he said, turning to the young woman at the helm, "Plot a course toward the _Kejada_ at our current speed. Prepare to engage on Captain Yusumi's signal."

"Yes, sir."

Sisko tapped his badge. "Sisko to Bashir."

"Bashir here."

"Doctor, we've come across an adrift Starfleet vessel and are changing course to rendezvous with it. I want you to prepare emergency teams. Once we reach it, I want you and the medical crew from the _Blessing Way_ to go down and do what you can."

"Of course, sir. Do you have any idea how many survivors we're looking at?"

Sisko turned to Worf.

"Mr. Worf, life signs?"

"I am having difficulty getting any readings from them, Captain," was the reply. "There seems to be some sort of interference affecting our sensors."

"Chief?"

"I see it," O'Brien replied. "It looks like they were caught in an ionic storm, from the readings I'm getting. No wonder their engines are gone. The entire ship is flooded with ionized radiation." He paused, turning to face the captain, looking unhappy. "Sir, I doubt anyone is alive in that mess."

Sisko sighed, and nodded.

"Julian, did you catch that?", he asked grimly.

"Yes, sir," the doctor replied. "I'll go down anyway. You never know."

"Agreed," Sisko said, then tapped his combadge off.

"Sir, we're receiving the go-ahead from the _Blessing Way_," the helm officer said.

"Good. Engage."

* * *

As he materialized, Julian Bashir heard the hum of four more transporter beams aside from the one carrying Nurse Jabara. A moment later, his vision cleared and he was greeted with the site of the _Blessing__Way_'s doctors, Fahad el Naser and Deraan, and two of their nurses.

"Ah, Julian," el Naser said, smiling. "The next time we work together, I'd prefer it be under better circumstances."

Bashir smiled wryly.

"So would I," he agreed.

Doctor Deraan, an Andorian man who didn't look much younger than Bashir and el Naser, nodded at his CMO and headed off with Jabara, his tricorder out and scanning. At a nod from el Naser the two _Blessing Way_ nurses left them as well. Bashir pulled out his tricorder, straining his genetically enhanced hearing as much as he could, hoping against hope for some small sound that would indicated someone had survived.

El Naser had his tricorder out as well and was turning slowly, holding the instrument just above shoulder height, frowning gently. Despite the fact that Bashir had only been to the Middle East once in his life, and his Arabic ancestry was so far back it was little more than an entry in a geneaological record, el Naser always put him in mind of a deep Middle Eastern desert at midnight. Bashir could easily picture his friend as a character in an old, cheesy and somewhat culturally insensitive show, a desert bandit emerging from the sands beneath the stars, carrying a sack of stolen gold and jewels. When el Naser smiled, Bashir automatically added the obligatory rescued slave girl to the mental image.

He had told Shannon Tanner about that once, and she had burst into peals of laughter at the image of her husband as a desert brigand. A faint smile touched Bashir's lips at the memory. Perhaps el Naser had some secret image of a haughty Englishman that fit Bashir.

"Anything?", el Naser asked.

"No," Bashir sighed. "Not that I'm surprised. I can't read anything past five meters."

"Me either," his counterpart said. "Well, shall we?"

He gestured down the corridor in the direction opposite of that taken by Deraan and Jaraba and the other nurses. Bashir nodded and they stepped forward, over some fallen debris. Despite whatever the _Kejada_ had suffered, the environmental controls and life support were still functioning on most of the vessel, so the abandoned corridor in which they found themselves was brightly lit. It gave Bashir the creeps: by rights, a ship this badly damaged ought to be dark and smoke filled. But there seemed to be no fires, no sign of gloom anywhere.

O'Brien had told him before leaving not to expect good sensor readings. The ship had apparently passed through an intense ionic storm, which was supposed to account for the lack of readings. And probably the damage. Several attempts to hail the ship had failed; nothing was getting through. If there was anyone alive here, they were dependent now on the search teams. A few of the crew members on the convoy ships had some medical training, and they had been dispatched as well. Although it was a small, deep space ship, like the _Blessing Way_, with a crew complement of only seventy-five people, they needed as many searchers as they could get. Someone's life could depend on being found at the right moment.

They moved cautiously through the corridor, avoiding piles of rubble and several sparking consoles. A fire burst out in one as they passed it, and both men hurried to stifle it before it spread.

"Still nothing," el Naser said after the fire had been extinguished and he had done another slow tricorder scan.

Bashir gave a nod. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up suddenly and turned, eyes panning the corridor behind him, peering into the shallow shadows cast by doorways and fallen debris.

"Do you feel that?", he asked without meaning to.

El Naser gave him a questionning look.

"Like someone's watching us?", he asked.

Relieved he wasn't the only one to think so, Bashir nodded.

"For a few minutes now," the other man confirmed.

"There _is_ someone, or something, alive on this ship," Bashir said. "If only we could–"

They met each other's eyes, both thinking the same thing. Then el Naser tapped his combadge, glancing away into the middle distance as so many people did while speaking to someone they could not see.

"El Naser to Tanner."

"This is Tanner, go ahead," came the reply.

"Commander, would you mind coming down here and having a look at the astrometrics lab? I think you might be able to get something out of the computers down here."

Bashir knew the code, although he was the only other person who did. He did not feel the touch of Tanner's mind on his, but guessed she was getting unspoken information from her husband. After a brief pause, she answered aloud:

"I'll be right there."

Two minutes later, she materialized in the corridor between them, giving them each a greeting smile and nod.

"Can you pick up anything?", el Naser asked.

Tanner concentrated for a moment, then her eyes widened in shock. Presumably, she had tried to scan the ship mentally from the _Blessing Way_, and, judging by her reaction, had come up empty handed then. Now, she was getting something.

"Oh yes," she replied. "That way." She pointed down the hall in the direction in which they were heading. "Astrometrics lab. Your cover story worked well."

El Naser raised an eyebrow in reply and Bashir smirked, following his friends down the silent corridor. Suddenly, his tricorder began registering a life sign.

"We definitely have someone," Bashir said.

"I've got it, too," the other doctor confirmed.

The astrometrics lab's doors were shut and the power to them had failed some time ago. It took a few minutes of grunting effort on the part of the three officers to finally force them open. When they did, they were greeted by the sight of a badly damaged lab, although the destruction appeared, on first glance, to be largely superficial. A small fire was eating away at a console, and Tanner whipped off her uniform jacket and began beating it out as Bashir and el Naser clambered over a debris heap consisting of another console that had been knocked loose and instruments from a storage cupboard that had opened and spilled its contents. On the other side, huddled on the floor, unconscious, was a living, breathing man in a red Starfleet uniform.

Bashir tapped his combadge as he crouched down beside the prone figure.

"Bashir to Sisko. Sir, I think you should come down to the astrometrics lab. We have a survivor."

Sisko and Ezri Dax appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, as Tanner succeeded in putting out the fire. Bashir stood, leaving el Naser to continue medical ministrations.

"That was quick," the doctor commented.

"Some of the turbolifts are still working," Sisko said. "We didn't have any luck with survivors, though."

Bashir nodded.

"Who have you got here?", Sisko asked.

Bashir glanced at Ezri.

"A Trill. Counselor, I'm hoping you might recognize him, because we haven't been able to access their computer yet. He's command level, at any rate."

Bashir noticed Tanner, sans jacket, moving to one of the undamaged consoles and trying to get onto the main computer. He looked back at his crewmates, and saw Ezri frowning. He beckoned them forward, helping the Counselor over the debris pile, which he and el Naser had easily overstepped thanks to their heights.

El Naser looked up at the captain.

"He's suffered some burns and a severe concussion, as well as a few broken bones, but nothing that will kill him. We haven't tried reviving him yet. I'd rather have him stabilized in a sickbay first."

"Good idea," Sisko said, then turned to Ezri. "Dax?"

She was staring at the uniformed Trill on the floor, her eyes narrowed slightly, her lips pursed into a frown. Then she relaxed and shook her head.

"Sorry, Benjamin," she replied. She looked at Bashir. "Is he joined?"

Bashir nodded. "He is."

A sudden rush of smoky steam from an environmental duct caught them off caught and sent all of them into coughing fits. Bashir heard more than saw Tanner move to shut the valve, and Sisko joined her quickly. It took them a moment to seal the broken conduit, but the smoke, having no real air circulation to push it toward the door, hung over them. Ezri grimaced, putting a hand to her forehead, looking pained.

"Counselor?", Bashir asked, reaching out to take her arm to steady her.

"I'm all right," she said, then coughed again.

"The air in here isn't good for a Trill," el Naser said. "Or any of us. We have to get him out of here, too."

"Agreed," said Sisko, reappearing with Tanner through the pall.

"Your sickbay is better equiped than mine," Bashir said to el Naser. "You should take him until we reach DS9."

The other doctor nodded.

"Julian, you'll come with me and Ezri," Sisko said. "He might not be the only survivor."

"Right," Bashir replied.

"I'll come with you, too" Tanner volunteered. "I could be of some help."

_More than anyone else suspects_, Bashir thought to himself, giving her a knowing smile.

"Thank you, Commander," Sisko said, apparently missing the smirk on his CMO's lips.

"I'll see you back home," Tanner said to el Naser, who nodded.

"All right." He touched his combadge. "El Naser to _Blessing Way. _Two to beam directly to sickbay."


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note_: Almost everything I learned about stars for this chapter I learned from Wikipedia. Some stuff I made up. I take full responsibility for any errors.

2

"Captain's log, stardate five-two-three-four-three-point-seven. We've made it safely back to the station, and the convoy ships to Bajor, without running into any Dominion ships. I consider us lucky, and don't want to push that luck again.

"We transfered the four survivors of the _Kejada_ to the infirmary here. Doctor el Naser believes they would all be better off somewhere more stable than a ship, and I'm inclined to agree with him, although I do share Julian's concern that Deep Space Nine is not the safest place to house recuperating guests. I'm grateful that the _Blessing Way_ hasn't been reassigned yet; we have four survivors from a crew of seventy-five. I doubt any one counselor alone could manage the feelings of survivor guilt these four will have. The _Blessing Way_'s counselor has offered his services as long as his ship remains here.

"Two of the four of them have regained consciousness: Lieutenant Vael, a Vulcan engineer, and Ensign Houni, a human man from Mars. The _Enterprise_ will be passing through here shortly, to pick up the _Kejada_ and tow her back to Starbase seventy-five. From there, my understanding is that she'll be returned to Earth. I imagine the two recovering officers will join the _Enterprise_. The two who are still unconscious, in the meantime, will remain here.

"Julian tells me that it looks like Commander Dredan Raza will make a full recovery; nonetheless, I have alerted the Symbiosis Commission on Trill that we have him here and he is badly injured. They are sending a joining candidate to the station as a precautionary measure. We don't have any unjoined Trills around like the last time we desperately needed one. The other patient, Lieutenant Sedtha, remains in critical condition, under the constant care of three very competent doctors.

"My science and engineering crews are working with those from the _Blessing Way _to bring the _Kejada_'s computers back on line. The chief assures me that they weren't attacked, which is a relief, but doesn't change the fact that eighty people, including the ship's small civilian population, are dead. It must have been one hell of an ionic storm.

"For now, we have no real answers. I don't suppose anything we find out will be much consolation to our four survivors anyway."

* * *

Ezri Dax sat in her office, staring blankly at the low, round table in front of her. She was alone, sitting in the dim, calming lighting. The table's surface was blue with specks of black and white. The white specks were far less numerous than the black ones. They reminded her of stars. Scattered stars in the vast, empty plain of space.

She had just finished a session with Lieutenant Vael, who, all things considered, was dealing very well with the loss of her crewmates. But then, she was a Vulcan and was pragmatic to the core about everything. Ezri knew that Vulcans generally reacted to this type of emotional stress in two ways: one, by simply accepting it and working through it with their typical aplomb, or, two, by losing control of their minds and emotions. Thankfully, it appeared that Vael fell into the first category.

Nonetheless, the session weighed heavily on Ezri's mind. She felt old. Stretched. Like the entire existence of the universe was pouring into her.

It wasn't an entirely new feeling. She had been coping with similar experiences ever since being joined. It was sometimes a struggle to keep the previous Dax personalities from overwhelming her. She hadn't been prepared to be joined, and the Symbiosis Committee had been excellent in their support, but some days, like today, it felt like too much.

_Where's the real Ezri?_, she asked herself, chewing on her lower lip. _Is there really an Ezri anymore, or am I just an echo of all the rest?_

Today, the unease was stronger. Ezri felt sure there were more memories hiding in her mind than she'd previously noticed. It was almost as if having another joined Trill on board had given her a whole new panorama of past host lives. He was unconscious, so was she trying to compensate for that somehow? Ezri had no idea; she doubted any Trill would. Her situation was unprecedented.

Except for that one human Starfleet officer, Riker or Ritcher, who had taken on a Trill symbiont in order to keep it from dying. Jadzia or Curzon remembered that, and had passed it onto Ezri. The man had almost died but had saved the symbiont and, in the end, a Trill had been found in time to keep the human alive. She wondered how he had dealt with the sudden, unwanted influx of memories.

It was Riker, she suddenly remembered. Jadzia had met him here on the station and he had told her about it. He was the first officer on the _Enterprise._ That ship was scheduled to pass through here in several days. Maybe she would ask him then.

With a sigh, Ezri pushed herself to her feet. She put away Vael's file and left her office, heading down to the infirmary.

Inside, it was quiet, an enforced silence for the recovering patients. Ezri went to Raza's small room and found him in exactly the same state as he had been since being rescued. He didn't seem to want to wake up from the coma he was in. Bashir and Doctor el Naser from the _Blessing Way_ had puzzled over this for awhile, consulting with Trill medical authorities, then had decided to let Raza recover in his own time. Ezri felt this was the best way, and had confidence that Bashir knew what he was doing. After all, Jadzia had always had confidence in him and Ezri saw no reason to doubt that.

The other patient, a half-Andorian, half-Aenar woman, was in more serious condition and neither Bashir nor el Naser wanted to risk reviving her. They had her under constant monitoring, so much so that both _Blessing Way_ doctors were taking rotating shifts with Bashir, so that there was always someone keeping an eye on Lieutenant Sedtha at all times.

Ezri pulled up a chair and sat down beside the unconscious Trill man. She stared at him blankly, as she had been staring at the table, not really seeing him. His image blurred slightly and she felt her head nodding toward her chest. With a start, she jerked herself back awake, then sat in the silence of the room, trying not to think. On days when she felt threatened by the tide of memories from previous lives, she found it best not to dwell on it.

She let her eyes close again, the rhythm of the monitoring machines lulling her to sleep. A brief memory flashed through her mind as she nodded off, of an exhausted Bashir, slumped in a seat beside a biobed. That was Jadzia's memory, of a time when one of Bashir's good friends from the Academy had ended up here, injured and unconscious. Ezri dismissed it; it wasn't her memory and now wasn't the time for it.

She awoke sometime later at the touch of a hand on her shoulder. Ezri blinked her eyes open and found herself looking back into Bashir's eyes, which were twinkling with amusement. She sat up straight, glancing around, and remembered where she was.

"Oh, Julian," she replied, then yawned, shaking her head. "How long was I asleep for?"

"I don't know," Bashir replied, amused. "I just got here."

Ezri nodded, shaking away the last vestiges of sleep. She felt much better now, the uncertainty over who she was settling again. Jadzia's memories, always the strongest when Ezri felt her weakest, returned the background, where they belonged.

"Any change?", the counselor asked, nodding at the patient.

Bashir shook his head.

"But if there is, I promise you'll be the first to know."

"How's Lieutenant Sedtha?", she asked.

"Still hanging in there," Bashir replied. "She's passed the worst of it. I'm trying to get Starfleet to agree to have the _Enterprise_ transport her to Starbase seventy-five as well, so she can be in a real hospital. Once the _Blessing Way_ leaves, I won't be able to monitor her twenty-six hours a day."

Ezri nodded. She knew Bashir did his best, but he was one doctor for a station of a few thousand people, not to mention new patients who might be transfered here from the fighting. Someone as critically injured as Sedtha needed attention he couldn't spare on his own.

"Maybe you can convince Doctor el Naser to accept a transfer here," she suggested with a smile as she stood.

Bashir grinned and chuckled.

"As much as I'd love to have him and Shan around, it would be like trying to get latinum from a Feringi, I think. The sickbay on the _Blessing Way _is _his_ sickbay. I'd be no more willing to leave this place."

"Well, at least they'll be around for awhile," Ezri said.

"There is that," Bashir agreed easily.

"I'll see you later, Julian," she said and left the infirmary, heading for home. There was a now-familiar moment of indecision as she fought superimposed memories of home. Relying on instinct wouldn't work anymore; Ezri waited until the feeling had subsided and headed for her own quarters, instead of where Jadzia and Worf had once lived.

* * *

Commander Shannon Tanner heard the whoop of triumph from the bridge, although no one else around her did. She was in the _Kejada_'s astrometrics lab, trying vainly on her end to get the computer system back on line. Although she and her science staff, and the few science officers from DS9, were familiar with Starfleet computer systems, they weren't engineers. It was the engineering crew on the bridge, led by the highly skilled Chief O'Brien, who seemed to have solved the problem.

Tanner resisted the urge to tap her combadge and ask O'Brien how it was coming. T'Sarak would disapprove. She would probably disapprove just to know that Tanner was listening with her mind's ears. Vulcans didn't have the ability to tune themselves in and out of their mental surroundings without physical contact, but Tanner did.

Not that it meant much. At first, Bashir had wanted to tell Starfleet Medical and she had adamently refused. When the war with the Dominion had broken out, Tanner would have gone to offer her services in person, exposing her genetic abnomally and effectively ending her normal life, but for the fact that she was useless as a telepathic spy. As far as she understood, naturally telepathic species, like Vulcans and Betazoids, had mental abilities that transcended language. Tanner did not. She could reads minds if the thinkers spoke English. She was passable in Vulcan; she had been on a Vulcan science ship for eleven months and it would have been difficult, not to mention ignorant, not learn to speak their language. But Vulcans had tight mental shields and she couldn't communicate with them mentally unless linked by a mind meld. She enough Arabic now to understand el Naser when he thought in Arabic, but that was almost always laced with some English. She could say about two things in Klingon, and spoke not a word of Romulan, Dominionese or Cardassian.

And she had learned that speaking a language was, for her, nowhere near close to understanding it mentally, with all the jumpy, half formed thoughts that passed through the minds of most people.

So instead of calling up to the bridge, she waited until the call came through to the astrometrics lab.

"O'Brien to astrometrics."

Tanner tapped her combadge.

"This is Tanner."

"Commander, we've got the main computer back on line. See if you can get any of your stations up and running."

Tanner gestured to her team and turned to the console in front of her. At her command, it came back to life, flickering for a moment at first, then stabilizing itself. She smiled, then glanced around. T'Sarak shook her head, as did Ensign Pokal, an officer from DS9. The rest of her staff nodded.

"We have two consoles that still aren't working, Chief."

"All right," came the Irish accented voice over the com, "I'll be down there in two minutes."

True to his word, the Chief and two of his staff showed up a few minutes later. They set to work with the two Vulcan officers whose consoles were still down. Tanner turned her attention back to her own console, and began pouring through the _Kejada_'s immense data set. It looked to have been broken down, and much of it studied, by the ship's science team, for which Tanner was grateful. But, and she knew this first hand, they would have collected far more than they could have analyzed by now, and with their entire science crew dead, save the comatose Lieuteneant Sedtha, Tanner had no real idea how much work she was facing. The very first task she'd set for her staff was figuring that out. She began searching for their most recent data; if she knew anything about fellow science officers, she could say with confidence that the ionic storm they'd hit probably would have been registered and subjected to at least a cursory examination. That meant there would be data for her to use, and probably information on the system in which the storm had raged.

She had just found the information from the few days prior to the _Kejada_'s downfall when the doors to the lab hissed open. Tanner, caught off guard from her concentration on her task, looked up, expecting another engineer to help battle the uncooperative consoles. Instead, she found herself facing DS9's Trill counselor, the one who was the new host to the Dax symbiont.

O'Brien had looked up from his work as well.

"Counselor!", he said in surprise. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually," the short, dark haired woman said, "I came looking for Commander Tanner."

"That's me," Tanner replied, stepping away from her console.

"I remember," Dax said, then shook her head. "At least, Jadzia remembers, so I do, too."

Tanner smiled, holding out her hand and the other woman shook it.

"That must be confusing at times," she commented.

"You have no idea," the counselor replied with a smile. "Jadzia remembers meeting you, so I know what to expect from you, but you prob ably have no idea what to expect from me."

Tanner grinned. That was true. Language barriers aside, she had one experience with a joined Trill she did not wish to repeat. She kept her mental barriers, the ones T'Sarak had taught her to build, firmly up, guarding against Dax's mind. The first time she had met a joined Trill after her genetic abnomally had been triggered, she had nearly been overwhelmed by the memories. She had not understood any of the words, of course, but the flood of images from one mind had threatened to consume her. That had been prior to fully developing her defenses. Now, she knew better than to let her guard down around a joined Trill. She had no idea how they managed it; the training must be intense. But she remembered Bashir had said this woman had had no training, no preparation, and no warning.

"What can I do for you?", she asked.

"Actually, I came to offer my help, if you need it," the counselor said. "Jadzia was a science officer, so I thought I could be of some assistance."

A sharp cry made them both look up and one of O'Brien's engineers was holding his forearm, wincing, while Ensign Pokal was holding up her right hand, one eyebrow raised, showing no sign of pain despite her singed skin.

Both Tanner and O'Brien sighed in unison.

"Go see one of the doctors in the infirmary, both of you," Tanner ordered. As they left, Tanner looked at O'Brien questionningly.

"This could take about an hour," he admitted. "These consoles are shot."

Tanner turned back to Dax.

"I think it might be helpful if you could get us access to DS9's science lab," she said.

Dax smiled.

"I can definitely do that."

Tanner nodded.

"Good. Then whatever help you could give would be welcome. T'Sarak, you're in charge here. Soran, you're with me and the counselor. Everyone else, keep at it."

* * *

Like a dam bursting, all of Jadzia's memories poured into Ezri's mind as she stared at the information displayed in front of her on one of the science lab's console.

"Commander," she said, catching Tanner's attention, and that of Soran, "Come look at this. This can't be right. It's impossible."

* * *

It was fairly like being beaten with a hammer, Tanner thought, defensive shields or not. It was the expressions on the faces of the two captains seated before her. Neither of them was happy, and neither was timid about showing it.

She wasn't happy, either, but was far better at dealing with her emotions. Soran's presence helped; half of her science team were Vulcans, a fact for which she was grateful.

Tanner could tell that Dax was displeased as well. This was just another complication. They were in the middle of a war, which was already going badly enough as it was. They didn't need this. And the captains didn't even know what it was yet.

"This," Tanner said, bringing the screen at the front of the ward room to life, "Is a spectral class chart. It's a basic one, but it suits our purposes. These are the most common type of stars in the galaxy. Types F, G, and K are are the ones around which life is most likely to form. For example, Earth's star is a type G2, and Vulcan's star is a type K1_(1)_. The differences are determined by mass, luminosity, temperature, and constituent elements. This also contributes to the visible colour spectrum light from the star produces. Type G stars are yellow; type K stars are orange.

"The variables, of course, are ranges. I've shown the temperature ranges here, because this is where Counselor Dax discovered the problem. The star in the system from which we rescued the _Kejada_ is a type G0 star, so it's whiter than Sol and should be slightly hotter. The problem is that it's much hotter. It has a coronal tempeature of 8,000 Kelvins, which puts it right in the middle of the A-type temperature range. The G-type range, as you can see, stops at 6,000 Kelvins."

She paused a moment, and Sisko filled in the pause.

"I take it you're not going to tell us that this is a type A star?"

"No, sir," Tanner said. "It's a type G0, definitely. In everything _but_ temperature. It's the right mass, the right luminosity, it has the right constituent elements, and it gives off the right visible spectrum. I have never seen or heard of anything like this in my life, and I can't give you _any_ reason why this would happen. In terms of astrophysics, it's impossible." She swallowed a sigh. "What I can tell you, however, is that this kind of stellar disturbance is probably what causes the particularly violent ionic storm we saw in that system. I'd be willing to bet that those storms are very common there."

She was interrupted by the comsystem.

"Bashir to Dax."

Dax looked slightly startled, glanced briefly at Sisko, who gave her a nearly imperceptible nod, and replied:

"Dax here, go ahead, Julian."

"Ezri, Commander Raza is regaining consciousness. I think you should come down here."

The Counselor gave her commanding officer another questioning look and he nodded again.

"Dismissed, Counselor, thank you."

Ezri nodded curtly and disappeared into the corridor. Tanner picked up again as the doors hissed shut.

"It's also worth noting that the habitable zone for this system is less than one hundred kilometers across. There's no way any complex life could ever form here. The distance of the habitable zone from the start depends on the type of the star. In the case of a normal G0, it's slightly farther out than Earth is from Sol, for example. I reviewed the _Kejada_'s scans of the system and there are no significant bodies in what passes for the habitable zone _and_ nothing where the habitable zone should be, if this were a normal star. There are two charred inner planets, and two ice giants between the thirty and fifty AU range. That's it."

"And this means?", Sisko asked.

"All I know, sir, is that it means the star is probably responsible for the ionic storm that destroyed the _Kejada_, and that the ionic storm was a highly unusual one in terms of strength. I can't tell you why this is happening, or what's causing it. I wish I could. I doubt more questions are going to be of any interest or relief to the survivors."

Both Sisko and Yusumi sighed.

"Commander," Yusumi said, "If I could send you back there to figure this out, I would. I have every confidence that you and your team could do it. Unfortunately, I can't."

Tanner gave a small smile, but a genuine one. Yusumi's confidence in her crew's capabilities was very much acknowledged and appreciated by all who worked under her. She had helped build a solid, dependable team that way, and had been rewarded by a crew who worked all the harder to meet her expectations.

"I wish I could go out there, too, sir, and get some answers. We'll do what we can from here, and keep you both informed, but I can't say I'm expecting much."

* * *

_(1)_ Our name for this star is 40 Epsilon. 


	3. Chapter 3

3

Ezri leaned against the locked doors of her quarters, pressing her forehead and palms against the cool Cardassian metal. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, letting them out slowly, trying to calm her mind and heart.

As she had anticipated, it had been an emotionally difficult awakening for Commander Raza. He was the _Kejada_'s first officer, and it had devastated him to learn that all but three of his shipmates were dead. Ezri had gotten him through the worst of the shock, to the point where he had focused all of his concern on Lieutenant Sedtha. Bashir had done all he could, short of letting Raza get up and see her, to reassure the commander that his crewmate would live. The doctor had promised Raza that he could see her the following day, and Ezri had assured him she would be there if he wanted.

After Raza had either gotten used to the shock or simply gone numb with it, Bashir had allowed Vael and Houni to visit him for a few minutes. That had helped, Ezri knew. It had given Raza some strength to see two living, healthy members of his crew.

She turned so that her back was to the door and leaned her head back, opening her eyes to stare at the ceiling.

The initial shock and grief Raza had experienced weren't what was bothering her. She was a trained psychologist and knew how to deal with it; indeed, she had helped Vael and Houni through the same thing only days ago.

It was what had come before Raza had learned of his ship's fate that unsettled her. When he had regained consciousness, he understandably didn't know where he was. Bashir had introduced himself and Ezri and explained to Raza where he was and, very briefly, why. Raza had been surprised to see Ezri. More accurately, he had been surprised to see Dax. She hadn't remembered, but he did, that one of his previous hosts, Tren Raza, had met one of Dax's previous hosts, Emory Dax.

It had only been once, at some political reception Emory had attended after returning from the Olympics on Earth. Tren had been a Trill politician and so of course had been at the banquet, and they had bumped into each other quite accidentally and begun talking. Tren, Ezri remembered, had followed Emory's Olympic journey with interest.

Ezri remembered the meeting, but in completely the wrong way. When the memory came back to her, it was of looking down at Emory, instead of up at Tren. She had been seeing her host through his eyes. It wasn't just an imagined displacement, too. She had _felt_ his interest in talking to this young athlete who had the courage to have journeyed all the way to Earth. She remembered what he had been experiencing at the time, the taste of the wine he had, the sense of self and purpose he carried with him, his minor irritation that he had to waste another night at a political function.

On top of that, she had Emory's memory, the right one. She could, if she tried, remember looking up at Tren, the slight nervousness at talking to such a high ranking politician, the smell of the food around her.

Ezri clung to Emory's memory, wondering where the hell the hallucination of Tren had come from. It scared her, but she didn't want to say anything to anyone. What would they say in return? She would probably get the standard reassurance that the symbiont would take some getting used to, and she could expect her mind to play tricks on her.

With a sigh, Ezri pushed herself away from the door and padded through the suite in the dark. She changed and got ready for bed without turning the lights on, not wanting to catch her face in the mirror right now. She was half afraid she'd see Jadzia looking back at her, or even worse, someone she didn't know.

She climbed into bed and did a short meditation to center herself again. Kira had helped her a great deal by giving her some meditation instruction, which had been immensely valuable after being joined. A deep sense of being Ezri returned, and she was able to go to sleep peacefully.

She awoke with a jerk in the middle of the night, wide eyes staring into the darkness. Ezri lay perfectly still, straining her hearing, trying not to breathe.

There was someone in the room with her, she was sure of it.

Slowly, she turned her head a fraction of a centimeter and saw a darker area at the foot of her bed. Someone was standing there. She dared not move any more and forced her breathing return to a deep pattern, so it would seem as if she was sleeping.

Suddenly, whispered voices filled her hearing and it was all Ezri could do not to scream. She ordered her lungs to keep breathing normally and rolled over as if shifting in her sleep, so that she was facing the bedside table. She strained her ears again, trying to make sense of the whispering. It was definitely a number of voices, and what they were saying would have been intelligible if she understood the words. It seemed to be a great many languages, but none of them were familiar to her.

She took a deep breath and grabbed her combadge.

"Dax to security! Intruder alert in my quarters! Computer, lights!"

The whispering vanished as the lights came on full. Ezri whipped around to see the invader and found her bedroom empty. Jumping from her bed, she grabbed the nearest thing she could find to use as a weapon, a candleholder she'd received for a birthday from a friend at the Academy. She crept into the livingroom, holding the candlestick ready to throw.

There was no one there, either.

Ezri stood with her back to the nearest wall, looking around.

"Computer, identify any other life forms in my quarters," she ordered.

"No other life forms identified."

The sound of the doors opening made her jump, but it was Odo and two of his deputies that hurried in. The deputies had phasers drawn and ready; Odo was unarmed, but still gave off the impression he'd be the worst one to face in a fight.

"Counselor?", he asked upon seeing her. "Are you all right?"

Ezri nodded, then remembered the candleholder and lowered it.

"Where did the intruder go?", the constable demanded.

"I don't know," she admitted. "It could– I may have been dreaming. I woke up and thought I saw someone standing near the foot of my bed."

Odo gestured at his deputies to search her quarters; it was a measure of his respect for her that he didn't suggest she had been seeing things.

"If there was someone there, Counselor, we will find him."

"I'm sorry to have called you out for what was probably just a dream," Ezri admitted.

"I'd rather you have called us than not," Odo replied. "Perhaps it was just shadows, but I'd rather be chasing shadows knowing that the people on this station are smart enough to call security when they think they're in trouble."

Ezri was grateful, and she knew Odo meant what he was saying.

The deputies returned.

"No one, sir. No indication that anyone else was here, either."

"We'll do a sweep of the station," Odo said. "And I'll inform Captain Sisko."

"Thank you," Ezri said.

He nodded at her.

"As a precaution, I'll post a guard outside your door as well."

Ezri felt more relieved than she'd expected, and thanked him again. Odo nodded curtly and instructed one of his deputies to stand guard. All three security officers left, and Ezri stood in the silence for a moment before shaking her head and wearily returning to her bedroom.

She slept fitfully the rest of the night, straying in and out of dreams in which people from races she had never seen mingled with familiar faces on the station, and shadows played strangely in the lights, flickering here and there. She awoke in the morning feeling tired, but didn't allow that to stop her from facing her day. She had appointments to take that morning, which she did, and a raktajino with Kira prior to that helped give her a much needed boost. Following her morning appointments, Ezri ate a quick lunch, then headed down to the infirmary, where she found Commander Raza up and about, awaiting her.

So she found herself on the _Kejada_ several minutes later, after Bashir had deemed Raza fit to move about the station. The commander had wanted to see what remained of his vessel, and since the engineering crews had neutralized the ionic radiation and sealed the hull breaches shortly after the ship had been towed into DS9, it was safe for him to embark. Ezri went with him at his request, walking silently beside him. It reminded her of Tren and Emory; he was tall and she was not, and he had a somewhat imposing presence.

Work crews of all sorts were busy on the ship when they went aboard. A young Starfleet security officer greeted them at the airlock and let them pass . Raza was silent when they stepped aboard his devastated ship. He looked around, as if not recognizing what he saw, then sighed heavily.

Ezri waited until he stepped forward again and they walked down the corridor slowly, bypassing repair teams and several science officers who were going off duty.

"This looks almost like when they were building the _Kejada_," Raza said abruptly. "There were teams everywhere, people all over the place, running back and forth, always fixing something."

"How long before launch were you assigned?", Ezri asked.

"I was assigned as soon as construction began. Captain Taemer and I both were. I arrived in Sol about four weeks before launch. There was still a lot of work to be done then. And still a lot to be done now, it seems."

Ezri only nodded, glancing around. Despite the obvious damage to the ship, and the fact that seventy-nine people, including civilians, had died here, she had noticed an odd shift in her comfort levels since they had come on board. She actually felt more at ease here than she had all day on the station. In a way, she wasn't surprised; after the previous night, her feeling of security had been shaken. Here, access was restricted, and logs were kept of each person's time of entry and departure.

They made their way, not consciously, to astrometrics. Ezri stood outside the lab, peering in at the scientists working at the computer consoles. The lab had been cleaned up considerably since the day before and the damaged consoles repaired. Now T'Sarak and two other officers were considering some information displayed on the large wall screen, discussing it quietly, while the few others inside worked on projects of their own. Two more science staff had been moved back to DS9 to work with Tanner and Soran, to make better use of the space available to them.

"This is where we found you," Ezri said, looking up at Raza.

"In astrometrics?", he asked, surprise flashing across his face.

Ezri nodded.

"You don't remember?", she asked.

He frowned, then shook his head.

"No, I don't… Why would I have come down here? Who else did you find here?"

"No one," Ezri replied and, now that she came to think about it, that was strange.

"It was the middle of the night," Raza said. "So no one would have been on duty. We only had one science officer on duty, on the bridge. That was Lieutenant Sedtha. Is that where you found her?"

Ezri shook her head.

"She was found in one of the turbolifts. Chief O'Brien thinks that's what saved her. The bridge had a hull breach."

Raza looked startled.

"I was on my way to the bridge when this happened," he said. "At least, I was supposed to be. Lieutenant Commander Vrit't had called both me and Taemer."

"We found her on the bridge," Ezri confirmed, and saw the look of pain on Raza's face. "It's possible that she sent Sedtha down to meet you to work on analyzing the storm."

Raza nodded, but did not look convinced.

"I don't remember," he sighed. "I can't remember anything between Vrit't waking me up and then waking up on DS9."

"Julian said you had a serious concussion. That kind of memory loss isn't surprising."

Raza nodded, but looked unhappy.

"Still…", he murmured, then put a hand on the wall of the corridor. He shook his head. "This was my home, Counselor. These people were my friends. And now it's all gone because… well, because of the wormhole, really. Because we passed through the wrong system." He paused, sighing again. "No matter how many times you hear the warnings at the Academy, it never prepares you."

"No," Ezri agreed sympathetically. "It never does."

* * *

Benjamin Sisko sat at a table on the second level of Quark's Bar, overlooking the main floor and the dabbo area. Below him, a few people were playing; business on the station had dropped off noticeably everywhere due to the war, even though the Federation had succeeded in retaking the station. There were a handful of people at the bar, including Morn, of course, as well as some of Sisko's own staff and some members of the _Blessing Way_'s crew. There weren't very many people on the upper level, and those present had chosen tables in darker corners, as if to hide themselves from the universe.

Sisko couldn't blame them. He himself was sitting up here rather than on the first floor in hopes that he wouldn't been seen. He felt uneasy, disquieted. It wasn't just the war, although that was a now familiar day-to-day stress on his mind.

It was something else.

It was the _Kejada_, moored in their port, a hollow shell of a ship, with only four survivors. Its presence was a constant reminder of not only of the dangers of space travel, but of the devastation of the war.

It was haunted. Not with translucent specters floating through its corridors, but with memory. Sisko had grown up in New Orleans, so he wasn't completely ready to dismiss the idea that something could linger after death and remain attached to a particular place. But with the _Kejada_, that wasn't it. It haunted the minds of his crew, of the people who were working on the ship. Sisko believed everyone who had heard about the tragedy must have run through their minds their own personal scenario of what it had been like. Then there were the survivors themselves. Raza remembered almost nothing, of course, nor Houni. But Vael did, and she had been frank about telling him everything, no matter how disjointed some of the memories had been. Of course, that had gotten around somehow, and been more fodder for the always active imaginations on that station…

It was haunting DS9 simply with its presence. There were very few crewmembers who came off a work shift from the _Kejada_ without complaints of goose bumps, uneasiness, or the feeling that someone was watching them. Only the Vulcans didn't seem bothered, which was no surprise at all.

But there was more than just that. Something felt wrong on his station. Sisko had been living here for seven years now, and it had been a real home to him for over three. As the commanding officer, he felt the life of the station inside of him. It was as much a part of him now as he was a part of it. And there was something lurking in the shadows of his mind, something unpleasant.

Whatever it was, the _Kejada_ had brought it with her, he knew. Perhaps when the _Enterprise_ towed away the derelict ship, the shadows would be taken, too.

* * *

Hin'Adri sat in a tree, legs dangling over either side of the thick branch, hands pressed against the rough bark as she surveyed the scene below her. She knew Yul'ahi was on his way to find her, and grinned when she heard his voice in her mind.

"_Hin, are you going to come down or make me come up there?"_

Her grinned broadened.

"_I'm not moving,"_ she replied, laughing softly to herself.

A few moments later, her brother was pulling himself deftly up beside her, shaking his head at her.

"You are more stubborn than a pundrun," he said, ruffling her grey-white hair. She swatted at his hands, giggling. He wrestled easily with her, taking care not to knock either of them from the tree. He was much taller than her, being ten years older, and brawnier than most men she knew. But then, he was a metal and woodworker, and spent his days apprenticing in the shop down the street from their home.

"What are you doing up here anyway?", he asked.

She pointed upward. Through the thin veil of leaves, the violet sky was darkening to a deep blue-purple and the stars were beginning to emerge.

"How many stars to you think there are, Yul?"

"You know as well as I do that the galaxy has over one hundred billion stars, Hin."

"I want to see them. Ones we've never seen before."

He ruffled her hair again.

"One day you will, Engineer Hin'Adri," he said fondly.

She grinned at him. She had just been accepted into the pre-engineering apprenticeship program. They had need for subspace tunnel engineers, and her interests and skill profile fit their requirements. She was going to be there one day, not too many years from now, building subspace passageways into areas that the Trisepat had never been before. All those stars were there, just waiting for her, and she felt as if she could simply reach out her hand and claim them.

* * *

Ezri awoke in the morning, the dream fading as her eyes opened. She frowned, trying to remember what it was she had been dreaming. There had been a tree… She had been sitting in it. Which hadn't been so odd at one point; before she'd been joined, Ezri had never had a problem with heights. But she had inherited Curzon Dax's dislike of them; he had fallen out of a tree once. It was something she battled with now, trying to overcome a paranoia that was not really hers. A joining counselor on Trill had told her that in time, Ezri would probably triumph over Dax in this case, which would be beneficial to future hosts.

_Good for them_, she thought wryly. _Curzon should have put more work into this._

She rose and began getting ready for her day, with a dull, nagging feeling that she ought to be somewhere, but couldn't remember where. As she passed by the bathroom mirror on the way to the shower, she caught a flash of her reflection and thought she saw Jadzia glancing back at her, only for a fraction of a second.

_I need a vacation_, Ezri decided activating the sonic shower, _From myselves._


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note_: My apologies to everyone who's been waiting for this! It's been an extremely busy week, and it's only going to get busier next month!

4

Ezri Dax scowled at the sound of laughter coming from the entrance to the infirmary. She lurked in the shadows of an empty examination room, listening to Bashir and el Naser catch up briefly as Bashir came on duty and el Naser went off. She had slipped in here, unnoticed by el Naser, knowing that the doctors were about to change shifts. She heard them bid good-bye to each other, then heard the infirmary doors hiss open and shut again.

She moved from the shadows, catching a brief glimpse of her reflection in a powered down console. Well, _a_ reflection. It was _her_ again. Ezri didn't know who _she_ was, but it wasn't her face. Instead of the short dark hair, pale skin and distinctive Trill markings, she kept seeing a woman with long, grey-white hair, silvery skin and pale green-grey eyes. She had never seen any race like that before, and certainly none of her previous hosts looked like that. She had wracked their memories and come up empty handed there, too. All she knew for sure, somehow, was that the woman's name was Hin'Adri.

Already, Ezri wanted nothing to do with her.

"Julian!", she whispered and saw Bashir start, then look into the room.

"Computer, lights," he said and the room lit up. He frowned in confusion at her and she beckoned him inside urgently.

"Ezri? What is it?"

"Computer, shut the door," Ezri said. Bashir looked startled as the door hissed shut. "Julian, I need you to do something for me."

"What is it?", the doctor asked. "What's wrong?"

"I need you to remove the symbiont."

He blinked, then stared at her for half a second.

"I'll do no such thing," he said flatly, automatically, then paused another fraction of a second. "Ezri, why in the world would you ask me to do something like that? You know that would kill you!"

"There must be a way it wouldn't!", she said. "Julian, I can't take this anymore! I'm going crazy!"

"Slow down, slow down," he said. "Come over here and sit down. Tell me what's going on."

"I'm losing my mind. Mine. I mean Ezri."

"Well, some confusion can be expec–"

"No! Not like this! This isn't just a case of having problems sorting out my pronouns! Julian, I'm remembering things that I can't possibly know! Yesterday I remembered something from Commander Raza's point of view! Today, whenever I catch a glimpse of myself, I see some alien woman I've never met before, and I don't even know what race she is! This symbiont is taking over! You need to get it out!"

"Ezri, even if I thought that was a good idea, I can't take it out without you dying."

"You're a good doctor, Julian," Ezri insisted. "You'd find a way."

Bashir shook his head at her, picking up a medical tricorder and flipping it open.

"I didn't find a way to keep Jadzia alive without it," he replied. "You know that." He began running a scan on her. Ezri glowered at him.

"It's different with me," she insisted. "I never wanted to be joined. I was never ready for it. I think Dax is rejecting me."

Bashir shook his head.

"If Dax was rejecting you, we'd have known by now. Ezri, listen, your isoboromine levels are just fine . There's absolutely no problems in the neural connections between you and Dax. Your adrenalin and serotonin levels, however, are higher than normal. Let me give you something for that."

"No!", Ezri protested. "I don't want to be sedated! I want you to listen to me! Something's happening and it needs to stop!"

Bashir put the tricorder aside and began preparing a hypospray.

"I _am_ listening to you," he said in an infuriatingly patient voice. "And I'm going to figure out what's going on. But you need to calm down, first. Having hormone levels that high isn't healthy for you or the symbiont."

He turned to her, hypospray in hand and Ezri saw her future suddenly, in a tight, narrow tunnel that began here and ended with being drugged for the rest of her life, no one believing what she said, calling her insane.

She grabbed the tricorder without thinking and smashed it against the side of Bashir's head. He grunted, dropping the hypospray and staggered, one hand reaching for the biobed. Ezri hit him again, then jumped from the bed as he fell, pulling off her combadge. She took his as well, and tossed them in a corner as she ran out the door, hearing it shut again behind her. She ran from the infirmary, then stopped, aware that she'd catch someone's attention if she kept that up.

_Where to?_, she thought wildly.

Out of the back of her mind came the answer: _the ship!_

_Which ship?_, Ezri thought in panic.

_Any ship!_

She nodded to herself, setting her jaw, and hurried into the nearest turbolift.

"Docking ring," she ordered, gripping the handrails as the lift began its ascent.

* * *

"Ow," Tanner muttered, putting a hand to her left temple. 

"What's the matter?", el Naser asked from behind her.

"Someone just–", she started, then shook her head. She glanced over her shoulder at her husband, who was standing behind the couch, having stopped on his way across the room. "Do you have a headache?"

"No, I don't. What is it?"

"It felt like someone just hit me," she replied, rubbing her temple. "I– Julian! Someone just hit Julian!"

"El Naser to DS9 infirmary!", her husband snapped. "Julian, can you read me?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Julian!", el Naser said again. "Please copy!"

"Bashir… here," came the muzzy reply and el Naser shot Tanner a look.

"He's barely there," she replied shortly.

"El Naser to DS9 security. There's an emergency in the infirmary on your station. Meet me there!"

Without even awaiting an acknowledgement, he barked an order to have their computer authorize an emergency transport for both of them to the infirmary. Seconds later, they materialized, and Tanner pointed at a set of closed doors.

"In there," she said.

They hurried in and found Bashir half conscious on the floor, one hand pressed against his forehead.

"Shannon?", el Naser asked.

She grunted, gritting her teeth and shaking her head.

"Too disoriented," she replied, putting up her mental shields again as she crouched in front of her old friend. She and el Naser manhandled Bashir onto the biobed, and el Naser grabbed a tricorder that had fallen to the floor and began scanning him.

"Julian," he said. "Can you hear me?"

"There are Romulans…", Bashir slurred. "All over the station…"

"What?", Tanner snapped.

"I don't think he means that," el Naser replied. They both looked up when security poured into the room, accompanied by a shocked nurse Jabara, who immediately hurried over to el Naser and began assisting him.

"What happened here?", Odo asked curtly.

"It appears someone attacked him, but we don't know who," el Naser replied.

"How did you find him?", the security chief asked.

"I called down here to ask him something," el Naser lied smoothly. "I barely got a response."

"Sir, look at this," of the Bajoran deputies said, picking something up from the floor. He held two Starfleet combadges in his hand. Odo took them.

"Computer, identify the owners of these combadges," he ordered.

"Doctor Julian Bashir and Counselor Ezri Dax."

"What happened to Dax?", Odo asked, looking at Tanner.

"She wasn't here when we arrived," Tanner replied.

Odo looked displeased, his not quite properly formed features darkening.

"That means whoever attacked Doctor Bashir was probably after Counselor Dax."

"No," came a groan from the bed. Odo hurried over, circling the bed to stand out of el Naser and Jabara's way as they worked on their patient. Tanner moved closer as well, frowning at her friend.

"What do you mean, Doctor?", Odo asked.

Bashir licked his lips and grimaced slightly.

"It _was_ Ezri," he managed thickly.

Tanner saw the surprise on the faces around her, and felt it ripple through the air.

"Dax attacked you?", Odo demanded.

Bashir nodded, then winced.

"With a tricorder."

"Why would she do that?", Odo demanded.

"She thought the symbiont was driving her crazy."

El Naser looked up, his eyes dark.

"We need to tell Commander Raza, then," he said. "If we have a joined Trill whose having problems with her symbiont, we're not facing one but several frightened and angry people. If Counselor Dax did this to Julian, she might be dangerous if she feels anyone else is trying to threaten her."

"Agreed. But I don't want her harmed."

"Joran," Bashir said.

Odo frowned.

"I'd thought of that, Doctor. If he somehow overtook her mind, we could be facing more than just an angry Trill. We need to find her quickly. Jian, Revik, get the rest of the teams organized, and get help from the _Blessing Way_'s security staff as well. We're going to have to make a thorough sweep of the station. With Dax's knowledge of DS9, she could be hiding anywhere, particularly anywhere that the internal sensors are weak or non-existent. I don't want anyone harming her. Stun her if you need to to bring her in, but that's it. This is not a criminal we're dealing with, but an officer who needs our help. Paol, you're with them, Varet, you're with me."

"Yes, sir," the Bajoran officers agreed and hurried out. Varet remained behind, accepting the combadges from Odo.

"Doctor, can you tell me anything else?", the Changeling pressed.

"Not in this state he can't, Constable," el Naser said as Bashir shook his head slowly.

"All right," Odo said, obviously displeased, but apparently unwilling to press the point. "We'll go inform Sisko. He's known Dax through three lifetimes; if Ezri's going to trust anyone, I hope it will be him."

Tanner nodded and el Naser gave a distracted grunt, focused more on his patient than on the security chief. Odo gave Tanner a curt nod and left with his deputy. Tanner stood back, easing herself gently into Bashir's mind. He sensed her instantly and clung to her. The relief and gratitude washed over her like a cold wave and she gently tempered his mind from the confused adrenalin rush back toward its normal state. El Naser gave him an injection that helped clear his head, and then something for the pain, which Tanner could feel much more vividly now that she was inside Bashir's currently disoriented mind.

"That should do it," el Naser said. "Thank you, Jabara." The nurse nodded, putting the hypospray into a sterilization chamber. "How do you feel Julian?"

"I've been better," Bashir managed. El Naser helped his patient sit up slowly, and Tanner backed out of Bashir's mind gently. "But all right."

"Good. She didn't do much damage."

Bashir grimaced.

"It certainly feels like she did. I had no idea Ezri was so strong."

El Naser nodded.

"Joined Trills are always full of surprises. Jabara, can you go check on Sedtha? She shouldn't be left unattended too long."

The nurse nodded and left the room. When the doors hissed shut behind her, both men turned to Tanner. She pursed her lips unhappily.

"I can try," she said.

"Please," Bashir said. "I know you have trouble with joined Trill. But we can't just abandon her. Ezri wouldn't normally do this. She's not herself."

Tanner nodded and closed her eyes, focusing quickly. Then she reached out, searching the station, looking for a hint of one mind with many facets. There was an amazing array of life surrounding her, minds babbling to themselves, thoughts rising and falling, like musical scales. Different people flitted in and out of her field of focus, leaving small, half formed thoughts or jumbles of words and emotions trailing after them.

Then a flood of memories and images from one place assailed her. Tanner gasped, and felt a pair of strong hands wrapping around her arms, keeping her from falling. Another similar mind joined the fray, and thoughts clashed at cross purposes, mingling with each other so that she thought she might drown in the sea of former lives, former personalities.

With a gasp of effort, she extricated herself, pressing the palms of her hands over her eyes. Purple and black spots danced in front of her when she pulled her hands away, but cleared quickly.

"Anything?", Bashir asked.

Tanner shook her head.

"I got Raza, and Lieutenant Dein," she replied. "I'm sorry. I'm sure Ezri is out there. I'll try again."

"You don't have to," Bashir said.

She gritted her teeth and nodded at him.

"I appreciate that, Julian, but this is probably the quickest way to find her."

Tanner reached out again and this time did find Ezri, almost instantly. The shock hit her so hard that her knees buckled and she hit the floor this time, barely aware that she was reaching out physically as well until someone gripped her hands. Tanner felt blinded by the memories coursing through Ezri Dax, felt them start to flood her, so that they became her own, and she began to fade into the background, making room for those seeking, moving, conquering…

It cut off abruptly as something cold touched the skin on her neck. Tanner blinked, swaying slightly, eyes refocusing on her husband, who was watching her with concern and a glimmer of fear in his eyes.

"What?", she managed.

"Neural inhibitor," he replied. "What happened, Shannon?"

Tanner rubbed her eyes again, feeling weary as El Naser helped her onto the bed Bashir had just vacated.

"I got her, or she got me. I can't tell. That didn't feel right, for a Trill. It was too much. And it didn't make any sense. It was as if– It was as if there were several people living in her mind, not just memories from past host lives."

"Where is she?", Bashir asked.

"Not on the station," Tanner said.

"Computer, how many ships are currently docked at the station?", Bashir asked, glancing up toward the ceiling.

"There are currently fifteen ships docked at Deep Space Nine," the computer replied.

"If I were trying to run, I would head for a ship, too."

"But which one?", el Naser said.

"There are two Klingon ships, at least," Bashir said. "Both Curzon and Jadzia had an affinity for Klingon culture, and a number of Klingon friends. She could easily have headed for something that's familiar to her."

"Wouldn't Starfleet vessels be just as familiar?", Tanner asked, regaining her mental balance bit by bit. "Jadzia was a Starfleet officer, Curzon was a diplomat for the Federation, and Ezri is an officer. Or maybe she headed for a private transport ship. She might expect us to think she'd boarded a Klingon or Starfleet ship."

Bashir nodded, displeased. He tapped his combadge.

"Bashir to Ops."

"Kira here. Doctor, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Colonel, thank you. You need to lock down all the ships docked here. I think Ezri may have left the station and boarded one of them."

"We've already done that, Julian," Kira replied. "Do you know anything else that we don't?"

"It's just a hunch, Colonel."

He heard Kira sigh over the comline.

"All right. Kira out."

He sighed as well, exchanging looks with Tanner and el Naser.

"Now what?", he asked.

"Now I'm relieving you from duty for this shift," el Naser said firmly. "And don't argue!", he added when Bashir opened his mouth to dispute the other doctor's orders. "I know doctors make the worst patients, but believe me, Julian, I will make the worst physician you ever have if you don't listen right now. Deraan can work another shift; I pulled a double shift for him yesterday. I don't want anyone who has been injured or who is distracted caring for Lieutenant Sedtha. I suggest you go back to your quarters and rest."

Tanner watched the battle of wills that raged for a moment between the two doctors, then Bashir conceded with a scowl.

"I'll take the shift off," he replied, "But I could probably be of some help to Ezri. She came to me, after all."

El Naser crossed his arms, but nodded.

"That's not up to me," he said. "This isn't my station."

* * *

Ezri Dax crouched in an abandoned Jefferies tube, straining her hearing as hard as she could. She was certain they were on her trail now, and she didn't know how long she had until they began searching the _Kejada_. She would need to get to the nearest operational shuttle bay. She remembered Chief O'Brien saying that one of the bays had escaped most of the destruction visited. The whole ship seemed to have been affected that way. Entire systems were left undamaged, while others would probably never be repaired. 

She had a phaser rifle slung across her back, complements of an unguarded, unlocked weapons locker. After all, since everyone who boarded the ship was recorded, any theft, especially of weapons, wouldn't be too hard to pin down.

Ezri hadn't boarded via security, however. She had boarded the _Blessing Way_, which was not restricted to Starfleet officers, and, using Tobin's experience as her guide, was able to beam herself from one ship to the other, unnoticed. Now, she only needed to get to a shuttle and freedom would be hers. She could hide in the badlands until they stopped looking for her; she had enough piloting experience to do so fairly safely. Then she could go somewhere, Trill perhaps, or maybe to the doctors who had enhanced Bashir, and have the damn symbiont removed. She was certain they would do it on Trill, once they saw how it was affecting her.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, in a language with which Ezri was becoming more and more familiar, much to her dismay, Hin'Adri was screaming at her to stop and go back. Fortunately, the woman seemed little more than an echo of something. She ignored the unwanted stowaway in her brain and began climbing the ladder to the next level. There, she forced open another Jefferies tube whose controls had been shorted out, climbed in, dragged the metal door closed again behind her, and began to crawl.


	5. Chapter 5

5

Bashir stood in ops, feeling frustrated and useless. He had given Kira and Sisko all the information he had, and now could only wait while security teams tried to hunt down Dax. It was obvious to the doctor that Kira felt the same way, standing beside him, drumming her fingers impatiently on a console. Sisko had joined the search, knowing Dax better than all of them, and O'Brien, Nog, and several other engineers were working at trying to pinpoint any lifesigns where there shouldn't be, or other anomalies that might give some clue as to where Ezri had gone.

"Sir!", O'Brien exclaimed suddenly, and both Kira and Bashir looked up.

"What is it, Chief?", Kira asked.

"There was an unauthorized transport from the _Blessing Way_ about half an hour ago," the chief replied. "It's been covered really well. Very few people would know how to do that."

Kira looked displeased.

"But Dax would," she said. "Thanks to Tobin."

"I'd bet on it," O'Brien replied.

"Why didn't the _Blessing Way_'s transporter chief pick up on it?", she asked.

O'Brien gave a mirthless laugh that was halfway to a grunt of dissatisfaction.

"She did a _really_ good job of covering her tracks, Colonel. I only found it by luck."

Kira gave a curt nod, then tapped her combadge.

"Kira to Odo."

"This is Odo, go ahead, Colonel."

"Odo, Chief O'Brien has traced Ezri's movements to the _Kejada_. She beamed herself over from the _Blessing Way_."

"Acknowledged. Thank you, Colonel. Odo out."

Bashir was already halfway toward the lift when Odo had signed off.

"Doctor!", Kira said, and he paused, turning around.

"I have to help her," he said. "She's afraid of herself, and she came to me for help."

"She also gave you a concussion."

"Colonel, I don't think she would have if she had been feeling well. Please. She's my friend. And I'm a doctor. Let me do my job."

Kira pursed her lips, obviously unhappy to send Ezri's victim back into the fray, but then she nodded.

"All right, but be careful, Julian. Enhanced or not, that brain of yours can only take so much."

Relieved, he flashed her a smile.

"I promise," he said, then hurried into the lift and let it carry him out of sight of ops.

* * *

Sisko, Odo, and the rest of their team moved slowly through the otherwise empty _Kejada_. The ship had been locked down and all repair and scientific crews evacuated within ten minutes. If Sisko hadn't known Odo as long as he had, he would have been incredulous. As it was, he had made a mental note to commend the constable later for his efficiency.

They had received information from Kira that O'Brien had tracked Ezri's movements from the station to the _Blessing Way_ then over to the _Kejada._ His first officer had also informed them that Bashir was on his way, and Sisko was doubly relieved, first to know that the doctor was all right, and second because he suspected that if Ezri was surrounded by people she trusted, it might be easier to reason with her.

He remembered when Joran had began surfacing in Jadzia's memories, and how the young woman had acted during that time. She had been angry and suspicious, lashing out easily at the people whom she trusted and loved. If Joran had anything to do with this, Sisko knew Ezri would have a much harder time with it, having had no preparation for becoming a host.

"Worf to Sisko," came a gruff voice over the comline that Chief O'Brien's engineers had managed to fix only hours before.

"Go ahead, Commander," Sisko replied.

"We have secured all the living quarters on deck four, and the lounge and holodecks on deck five."

"Good work, Commander," Sisko said. "Keep a contingent in that area, and take the rest of your people down to cargo bay one."

"Understood. Worf out."

"Bashir to Sisko."

"This is Sisko," the captain said, glad to hear his CMO's voice.

"I'm on the deck below you, sir. I'm on my way up now."

"Glad to hear it, Doctor. We'll wait for you here," Sisko replied, signaling to the security team to stop and wait. A few minutes later, Bashir appeared, having been armed with a phaser on his way in.

"Doctor, good to see you," Sisko said, and Odo nodded his agreement.

"Thank you, sir," Bashir replied, but looked unhappy. "I need to apologize for this. I didn't realize how serious Ezri's condition was."

"It's hardly your fault, Doctor," Sisko replied. "I don't think anyone could ever have foreseen her attacking you. Let's go. We're on our way to the operational shuttle bay. If she isn't going to transport out again, that's probably where she's headed."

Bashir nodded and fell in with the group. They arrived at the shuttle bay a few minutes later, without incident, but also without tracking any lifesigns or hints that Ezri had been there. Sisko wasn't really surprised; the way this ship had been damaged, it was a miracle they were getting tricorder readings at all. Things hadn't improved much since their search and rescue mission.

The doors were working, and hissed open benignly for them, admitting them to an apparently empty shuttle bay. There were two shuttles on the docking floor, one with a few components removed and sitting nearby. It was an eerie scene to Sisko; some engineers had been working on this, and then probably called away abruptly when the emergency had occured. All but one of the engineers on the _Kejada_ had died; their work lay there, but there would never be anyone to finish it.

"Anything?", Sisko whispered to Odo, who was armed only with a tricorder.

"No," the security chief said. "But there's still so much interference that the readings are meaningless."

Sisko lowered his weapon so that it hung at his side, and looked around, taking another step into the shuttle bay.

"Ezri! Ezri, are you here? It's Benjamin! I need you to come out and talk to me!"

The shot caught them off guard, knocking Sisko backwards. He grunted as the pain flared through his shoulder, and dropped his phaser rifle, hearing the echoing clatter as it hit the floor. He felt someone catch him and was grateful, in a detached way, for his doctor's genetic enhancements. Bashir had him just as he'd begun to fall.

Two more shots came in tight sequence, and both of Odo's security officer's crumpled to the floor. Sisko tried to rise, but Bashir held him down, shaking his head.

"No one moves!", a commanding female voice echoed across the bay.

"All right, Counselor!", Odo called back. "We're listening!"

"Where is she?", Sisko whispered to Bashir, who had eased the captain to the ground, but was unable to do anything else.

"Up on the command deck, near the controls."

"Get her down here," Sisko ordered. "Any way you can."

Bashir nodded.

"Ezri, it's Julian! Please, let me call Doctor el Naser to get the wounded!"

"If you call anyone, I'll shoot you!"

Sisko felt Bashir's hands tense and felt his own stomach knot.

"Ezri, you don't want these people to die! I promise, we won't bring in any more security! We just need a doctor and a nurse to get these people out of here!"

"You expect me to believe that?", Ezri's angry voice carried across to the small party. "What's stopping you from surrounding this place and killing me?"

"No one wants you dead, Counselor," Odo called back in his level voice. "No one wants any dead. Let us get the wounded out."

"Ezri, listen!", Bashir called. "I looked over the medical scans I took of you! You're right: the symbiont does need to come out! I'll even do it!"

There was a pause and Sisko glanced back at the doctor, shocked.

"Don't worry, sir," Bashir said in a voice that was barely a whisper.

"Call Doctor el Naser, then!", Ezri called out. "But you stay, Julian! You don't get to go anywhere!"

"I'll stay!", Bashir agreed.

"I want you to come toward me, unarmed! If anyone tries anything, I'll shoot you!"

Sisko saw Odo start to reply, but Bashir cut him off.

"All right, I understand. I'm on my way."

* * *

Gently, Bashir eased Sisko against the wall and put his phaser aside. He put his hands up, palms out, and began walking slowly toward the center of the room, taking care not to make any sudden movements. He could just see Ezri near the control console above him, across the bay, but she was half hidden in shadows. Behind him, he could hear the sounds of Odo calling for el Naser.

The walk seemed to take years; Bashir was aware of each beat of his heart, of the echo of each of his footsteps. He expected at any moment to be shot, while at the same time knowing Ezri wouldn't risk it if she believed he would remove the Dax symbiont.

"That's far enough!", Ezri called down. "Stay right there!"

Bashir stopped, keeping his hands where she could see them, and waited.

"Now what, Counselor?", Odo called from behind him.

"Once you get Sisko and the others out, you will allow me and Julian to leave! We'll take a shuttle, and if you attempt to beam us back to the station, put a tractor beam on us, disable us, or have another ship pick us up, I _will _shoot him!"

"Understood!", Odo replied. "I'll make sure Chief O'Brien clears you for departure immediately. Do you know if either of these shuttles work?"

"The _Alissoria_ is in perfect condition!", Ezri shot back.

Bashir took a deep breath to steady himself. Suddenly, someone spoke to him, a voice only he could hear, and it nearly made him drop to his knees with relief.

"_Julian!"_, Tanner said. _"I'm on the ship! That isn't just Ezri in there! Or just Dax! There's something else in her mind! I've got a good sense of it now!"_

_Shan, thank God!_, Bashir replied, making sure to keep his thoughts as clear as possible so she could understand him. _Ezri's on the command deck of shuttle bay two. If you can get there from deck thirty, you should be able to come in behind her. Can you help her?_

"_Yes,"_ came the definitive reply. _"But then I will probably need your help."_

_You have it_, Bashir answered, and felt Tanner withdraw. At the same time, he heard the shuttle bay doors hiss open, and recognized el Naser's footsteps. There was another person with him, one whose steps Bashir couldn't place, so he guessed it was one of the _Blessing Way_'s nurses. There was movement behind him, shuffling, and Bashir hoped fervently that all the wounded were able to walk out on their own.

The door on the command deck hissed open and Bashir's eyes snapped up as Ezri whipped around. Tanner was too quick for the surprised Trill, shoving the phaser rifle aside with one hand and planting her other hand firmly on the shorter woman's forehead. Bashir was running as soon as he saw Tanner's head snap back and her body shudder. He was halfway toward the ladder when Ezri collapsed, leaving Tanner standing, almost a grotesque figure, one arm outstretched, fingers splayed, head back, back arched in pain. He saw her collapse as well as he reached for the ladder and hauled himself up.

* * *

The cacophony in her head nearly deafened her. Shannon Tanner fought for a measure of self awareness, pushing back against the onslaught of memories and voices. Most of them were jumbled, all in languages she did not understand, but there was a core there, something that unified all of the din. It was telling her, very clearly, in a way that transcended language, that it could not stay there.

_I know!_, she shouted back, struggling to put up her mental walls.

Bashir's face appeared in her limited field of vision, then, brown eyes concerned, brow furrowed. Without thinking, Tanner put a hand on his forehead and closed her eyes against the torrent. She would feel vaguely guilty later over her relief that it was Bashir taking this, and not el Naser, but right then, there was nothing but the need, both hers and the other's, to be out of her head.

She was left alone suddenly and gasped in shock, opening her eyes again. She saw Bashir still watching her, but his expression was vaguely unfocused, somewhat confused. Perhaps he wasn't even seeing her, she realized. There was a moment of stillness, then Bashir's frown twitched, he gave the slightest of nods, and straightened up.

He stood taller than Tanner had ever seen him do, his shoulders drawn back, an expression of detached curiosity on his face. Then he looked down again, at her and the unconscious Ezri Dax, and appeared to notice them for the first time.

"Ah," he said, in a voice that was not entirely his. "This woman needs a doctor, and we understand this host is a doctor. There must be others."

Tanner coughed.

"There are," she pointed at el Naser who was running across the shuttle bay floor toward their small group.

"Good," the Bashir and not quite Bashir said. "We must speak to whoever is in charge."

"I think," Tanner said, nodding slowly, "That would be a good idea."


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note_: This is try number two for this chapter. Somehow, my document became corrupted and I lost everything I'd written! Grr.

6

The infirmary seemed busier than it had ever been when Sisko had been there. There seemed to be people milling about, some of them getting cared for, some of them there for no obvious reason. At the moment, he was lying on a biobed, having his shoulder treated. As far as he understood, it was Bashir who was doing the treatment, but not Bashir to whom he was speaking.

Commander Shannon Tanner was on an exam bed beside him. Sisko still wasn't certain what her role in all of this had been, nor how she had known where to find Ezri. He was suspicious that he would never know the whole truth. Some things were the result of serendipity, but he didn't think that was entirely the case here.

"All right, who are you?", he asked.

"We do not have names, or a name. This host informs us that you call him 'Julian'. That will suffice."

"All right, Julian, I want to know where you're from, how you got here, and what the hell is going on," Sisko ordered.

"Most recently, we come from a star in a system not far from here. We live in the corona of that star."

"Of course!", Tanner said, slipping nimbly from the bed. "That's why the star was so hot! It had nothing to do with the star itself, it was you!"

Bashir looked over his shoulder at her.

"This host informs us that you should remain seated. He does not wish you to become unwell."

"Of course he doesn't," Tanner said offhandedly, but regained her seat anyway.

"You are correct," Bashir continued, nodding at her.

"Then how did you get here?", Sisko pressed.

"We are non-corporeal beings. We cannot travel through space without a host, as you cannot travel through space without inanimate vessels. We came in the mind of a host named Ezri Dax."

"So you just take over someone's mind and ride around with them until they drop you at the nearest star?", Sisko demanded, irate over what had happened to Ezri. He could still remember the sound of her voice issuing orders that would result in Bashir's death if not followed.

Bashir looked startled.

"No!", he exclaimed. "We always obtain the permission of our hosts. We have Julian's permission to be here, otherwise, we would have found another host."

"Then what happened to Ezri?", Sisko asked.

"We became mired in her mind. We chose her because she was similar to the previous host we had chosen, the one you call Raza. But she was unprepared for us. We could not become cohesive enough to obtain her permission, let alone alert her to our presence. We attempted to separate ourselves, but we could not. We could not explain to her what was happening."

"Wait," Sisko said. "If you had Raza's permission to travel with him, why didn't he say anything to us about you?"

There was another pause and Bashir looked pensive.

"This host informs us that Raza suffered a memory loss after the disaster on his vessel. It is entirely possible that he simply does not remember our existence."

Sisko nodded slowly. It didn't seem that Bashir was suffering any ill effects from the entities in his mind. And he could easily understand how this would have unintentionally overwhelmed Ezri's mind. She was still adjusting to the Dax symbiont. Piling on another set of minds had been a disaster.

"Why not Commander Tanner?", Sisko asked.

"Her mind was also unsuitable," Bashir replied. "She is too well trained mentally to allow us the space we require. She would have been fighting constantly with us. We understand this can destroy an individual, and significantly weaken us."

"So you've left your star. Now what?"

Again, Bashir looked surprised.

"We have not left," he said.

"But you're here."

"Yes, and we are still there. And in the coronal layers of countless other stars across the galaxy. We are not individuals as you are. We are one, and many. We share one consciousness, one identity, but can exist in more than one place in time."

Sisko nodded slowly. He thought he could at least grasp the idea.

"But now what?", he asked.

"We wish to find a new home. Each voyage expands our experience."

"We can't put you in this system's star," Tanner said. "Not without destroying the inhabitable zone here, and the station. How do you chose where you're going to live?"

"We do not live in systems where any life has formed," Bashir said firmly. "The system in which you found us was chosen specifically because it was unable to support any life. But Julian informs us you are at war, and are unable to embark on any scientific missions."

"That's right," Sisko said. "How long do you intend to stay in Julian's mind?"

"Only as long as necessary," Bashir assured him. "This host informs us there is an area nearby called the Badlands. We have analyzed what Julian and Shannon know about the Badlands and have concluded that it is an ideal place for us. In addition to being the right environment, it is large enough for us to move freely without relying on corporeal hosts. We request that you take us to the Badlands."

Sisko thought about this for a minute. Then he nodded slowly.

"I think we could do that," he agreed.

From the other bed, Tanner raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Sir, do you think that's safe?", she asked.

"If we use the _Defiant_, we should be all right," Sisko said. Then he sighed. "Besides, I would rather lead a mission that doesn't involve patrolling for Jem'Hadar and Cardassians, or escorting a convoy."

"We are grateful," Bashir said. "Julian informs us that you are well enough to leave."

"Thank him– thank _you_, Julian."

"You are welcome."

Sisko slipped down from the bed and gave his shoulder an experimental rotation. It seemed fine; the mobility was normal and it didn't hurt. He was grateful for that; he knew Ezri would have enough guilt on her plate once she had recovered. But he knew Dax well enough to know she would never have done this under normal circumstances.

"Kira and I will get started immediately on departure plans," Sisko said to the doctor.

Bashir gave a curt nod, and the corners of his lips turned up in a small smile that lit his eyes.

"We do appreciate that, Captain," he said. "Thank you."

* * *

"Come in!", a voice from the other side of the door said, and the door slid open at the invitation. Hesitantly, Ezri Dax crossed the threshold from the corridor of the _Defiant_ into Bashir's small crew quarters.

It was the first time she had summoned the courage to see him since being released for the infirmary. Even that had felt strange, knowing the man treating her was and wasn't her old friend. Now, she understood what had happened. She had been debriefed by Sisko, Odo, and el Naser, but she had yet to face Bashir.

There were questions that needed answering.

"Ah, Ezri Dax. Please, come in," Bashir said, standing. She did so, and kept her calm with some effort as the door hissed shut behind her.

"Hello– Julian?"

"Yes, you should call us Julian," Bashir assured her. "He is here as well, and speaking with us."

"I–", she started, and then felt at a sudden loss for words. "I wanted to thank you for helping me."

"It was our duty," Bashir replied. "You suffered because of us."

"I mean Julian, by himself," she said. "He didn't have to give himself up, or put up with me threatening to shoot him."

Bashir was silent for a moment.

"Julian says that it is the least he would do for a friend."

Ezri nodded, still feeling uncertain and guilty. She could remember everything that had happened, all the demands to remove the Dax symbiont, the threats, the anger.

"There's something else I want to know."

"Yes?"

"Who is Hin'Adri?"

A puzzled expression crossed Bashir's face. Then he brightened slightly, nodding.

"Ah. Yes. She was one of our previous hosts. She was an engineer."

"From what race?", Ezri asked.

"We do not remember," Bashir admitted.

"But I had– have some of her memories!", Ezri protested. "You must know something about her!"

"It is likely that whatever you know is all that we know. We are not Hin'Adri, Ezri, no more than we were you, or Raza. We leave only memory in our hosts, and they leave some memories with us. We can remember Hin'Adri, and what she looked like, but little more, for she left little more."

"Will I always have these other memories?"

"We believe so. But they are simply memories now, and not fueled by our presence. They should not harm you."

"Do you remember when Hin'Adri was your host?"

"We do not understand time as you do. Nor do all species measure it as you do. We could not say anything that would be of any use."

Ezri nodded. She hadn't expected any more than that.

"What about Tanner?", she asked. "How did she know where to find me, or what to do?"

There was another pause.

"We are sorry. Our host instructs us that we cannot answer that question. Nor will he answer it once we are gone."

Ezri nodded again. She hadn't really expected an answer to that, either. There were things she wasn't meant to know, but they were not things that would bother her, either. Tanner had helped her, and that was enough.

"How is Julian?", she asked.

There was another pause, then a bright smile that Ezri recognized as her friend's.

"I'm fine, Ezri," he replied. "Don't worry about me. I'm actually rather enjoying this."

At that, Ezri relaxed into a grin of her own.

"Good," she said. "I'm glad they found someone who could help them and appreciate them."

Bashir smiled again, and she knew it was still really him, not the entities speaking through him.

"So am I."

* * *

The small bridge of the _Defiant_ was full as the ship was eased into the Badlands. The pilot at the helm was an expert at ignoring the goings on around her if necessary, and was navigating them around plasma flares and subspace eddies with practiced ease. Sisko sat in the captain's chair, accompanied by his senior staff and Commander Shannon Tanner. She had requested to come along on this mission, and he had found he could not in good conscience say no. After all, she was Bashir's friend and she had carried the entities in her mind, however briefly.

Bashir stood beside her, watching the viewscreen with interest. Ezri was at Jadzia's old science post, but using it only as a seat, not as a work station. Kira was monitoring communications, O'Brien monitoring the ship with Nog's help, and Worf was scanning for enemy ships.

"No sign of Dominion or Cardassian vessels, sir," the Klingon rumbled from beside Sisko.

"Good," the captain said. "Helm, full stop when it's safe to do so."

"Aye, sir," the ensign replied and Sisko felt his ship slow and come to a gradual halt. Around them, plasma danced and flared, causing small, short lived vortices in the firey spacescape. They all watched the dangerous, alien beauty for a moment, then Sisko turned to Bashir.

"Are you sure about this, Julian?", he asked.

Bashir nodded.

"We are," he replied.

Sisko nodded in return.

"Whenever you're ready then," he said.

"Yes, thank you," he replied. There was a pause, and Bashir gave him a brilliant smile. "Goodbye."


	7. Epilogue

_Author's Note:_ Thanks for the suggestion, SpaceRoses.

Epilogue

Ezri Dax stepped into the infirmary, looked around briefly, and then headed toward the sound of people talking and moving about. She arrived at the small room where Lieutenant Sedtha was recovering to find Bashir, the chief medical officer from the _Enterprise_, Crusher, several nurses, Commander Raza, and Odo all crowded in. Ezri stayed outside the door, in the corridor, watching as Bashir and Crusher eased the injured woman from her bed onto a hoverstretcher.

Sedtha was conscious now, aware of what they were doing, but staying still and silent until she had been moved. She looked much better than she had even the day before, Ezri noted. Some of the colour was returning to her pale blue complexion, and the dark circles framing her eyes were fading.

Once she had been moved, Commander Raza stepped forward, took her hand and asked how she was doing. Sedtha nodded with a small smile and said she was fine, but Ezri could see the strain and fatigue in her face. All of the survivors of the _Kejada_ had that, although Vael didn't show it, or experience it to the same extent.

They were all leaving now, on the _Enterprise_, bound for starbase seventy-five first. After that, it was anyone's guess where they would go. Certainly, they would not see active service again soon, even though three of the four were physically healthy enough to return to duty. Of all of them, Ezri would have only allowed Vael back to work, and even then, it would have taken some pressure for her to do so.

"All right," Crusher said with a smile at her patient. "Ready?"

Sedtha nodded.

"Let's go, then."

"Thank you, Doctor Bashir," Sedtha said as the nurses began to move her stretcher.

"You're welcome, Sedtha," Bashir replied with a smile. "You take care of yourself."

She nodded.

"I will."

Ezri stepped back as the medical staff, Raza, and Odo, along to provide security should it be necessary, moved past her. She smiled at Sedtha and bid the other woman goodbye, then watched until they had left the infirmary. Bashir joined her in the corridor, smiling down at her.

"Why didn't you just transport her over to the _Enterprise_?", the counselor asked.

"I didn't want the shock to her system. Neither did Doctor Crusher. I admit it isn't the most private way to travel between station and ship, but the best for her in the end."

Ezri nodded. She looked around, noting how quiet the infirmary suddenly seemed. And how relieved Bashir appeared to be. The _Blessing Way_ had left three days ago, taking her two doctors with her, leaving Bashir alone to tend to Sedtha, who, by that time only required one doctor. Still, it must have been tiring, Ezri thought.

"What can I do for you?", he asked, turning to her with a smile.

"Actually, I just came to talk to you."

Bashir's smile grew.

"You timed that well. Come on. Let's go for a drink."

They found themselves in Quark's, on the second level, away from the noise of the dabbo table and the bar.

"I wanted to know how you were doing," Ezri said.

Bashir chuckled slightly.

"I'm fine," he replied. "It's certainly an adjustment. Now I have some understanding of what it's like to be in your shoes."

Ezri smiled at that, taking a sip of her drink.

"How about you?", he asked.

"Back to normal," she replied. "Better than normal, really. After all of that, it's actually become easier to deal with Dax's memories."

"What about Hin'Adri?", Bashir asked. "Are you still seeing her?"

"I catch a glimpse of her once in awhile instead of my reflection. Nothing that scares me, though."

"That's good," Bashir said.

"And you?", Ezri asked.

"I have strange dreams," Bashir admitted. "I'm usually a woman."

Ezri laughed, shaking her head.

"Considering that the two hosts immediately before you were women, maybe that's not so surprising," she said.

Bashir grinned.

"Probably not. Shan told me before she left that she woke up one morning and couldn't figure out if she was a female scientist who thought she was a male religious leader, or a male religious leader who thought he was a female scientist. I suppose we'll all sort it out, eventually."

"Eventually," Ezri agreed. "That's what the joining counselors on Trill always told me. Eventually."

"I suppose that gives us a lot of time," Bashir said.

"Our whole lives," Ezri agreed.

He raised his glass to her and Ezri lifted hers, touching the rims.

"Here's to us," Bashir said. "Julian and Ezri."

"To us," Ezri agreed. "And who we are now, extra memories and all."

Bashir grinned.

"Hear, hear."


End file.
